Actually Doris seemed to settle down once she came home from a few months in the city. She ended up becoming a school principal. Her family was very influential in the city of Boston and she ended up marrying well–Mrs Doris Mason Grosse– yes well, a few times. She was married three times by the age of 45.
United States Census, 1930
Doris Mason • Edit
1930 • Edit
Boston (Districts 251-500), Suffolk, Massachusetts, United States • Edit
Henry Slade (born 1791) purchased an old mill in Revere that was powered by tidewater.This mill has burned down TWICE, so the poor building that is falling to ruin currently is more modern than Henry’s mill.He used the mill to grind snuff, since he sold tobacco products.He turned over the use of part of the mill to two of his sons, Charles (born 1816) and David (born 1819), and they began to grind spice for wholesale grocers as Slade Spice Company.Charles eventually left the company and was replaced by his brother Levi (born in 1822)and D & L Slade was formed.When Levi died in 1884, the company incorporated, with David, Wilbur L. Slade (son of Levi), Herber L. Slade (son of Levi), and Henry Dillingham (son-in-law of David and husband of Anna Jeanette, David’s daughter, of course).They began to buy spice and sell it, and since they were sticklers for quality, they did very well and the company grew rapidly.They refused to put fillers in their spice, and they soon became the largest seller of unadulterated spice (something that was hard to find in those days).Besides the mill in Revere, they had a factory in Chelsea, and offices in Boston.When Bell Seasoning’s went on the market, they purchased that company, which had also been family-owned, but they retained the name of Bell’s on all its packages.Somehow the same nicety was not extended to the Slade’s brand when it was finally acquired by a large food corporation, and the Slade’s Spice name no longer exists.
THE SLADE MILL
The mill was one of several tide mills dotting the New England coast – an innovation that some say originated in the area. Tide mills worked by using a set of flood gates. When the tide surged in, the flood gates swung open to allow the ocean water to fill the marsh and mill pond. When the tide turned and began to exit the marsh, the gates closed, trapping the water. From this impounded water the mill drew off a steady stream to turn its machinery – similar to the way a mill on a river used the flow to drive its works.
In 1918 Slade would make the investment that keeps its legacy alive today. It bought out the Bell’s Seasoning Company. In 1867, William Bell had begun selling his blend of poultry seasoning through his market in Boston. Bell had started as a grocer in Lowell, Mass. before moving south to Boston where he could buy spices directly off the ships arriving in port.
Over the next 40 years Bell continually expanded the popularity of his Bell’s Seasoning – a blend of rosemary, ginger, oregano, sage and marjoram – until his sudden death at age 76. Sensing opportunity, Slade purchased the brand, but wisely did nothing to change the name or formula. Instead, he incorporated Bell’s into his own lineup, which had expanded to baking powders, cumin, pepper and a wide range of spices. The company promoted them in its own cookbook.
The Slade name finally disappeared from the grocery shelves in the 1970s when the Slade family sold the company. Only the Bell’s brand name remains today – touted by a wide range of cooks as still the best poultry seasoning for a Thanksgiving turkey.
The Slade Mill, though, still lives on. Added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1972, its owners converted it to apartments in 2004.
Drove from North Bay to Ottawa with a wedding cake for my sister in law. My wife baked the cake (3 layers) and had it iced professionally here. The baker was a little dubious when told of our mission but completed the cake. Everything went well until the time to cut the cake. They ended up using a hammer on the knife to break the cake open. The cake (and icing, when you managed to soften it) was delicious. Larry Clark
The Great Molasses Flood, also known as the Boston Molasses Disaster or the Great Boston Molasses Flood, occurred on January 15, 1919, in the North End neighbourhood of Boston,
What a sweet story and quite true. They say on warm summer days you can still smell a scent of molasses in the air around the fire station!
Results were devastating.
“First you kind of laugh at it, then you read about it, and it was just horrible
A molasses wave 40 foot high poured out of the container killing 21 people. Imagine living in a basement apt and having this sweet sticky liquid pour it. It was like fly paper.
A sea of more than 1,500,000 gallons of molasses, freed by the sudden explosion and col-lapse of a giant iron tank, sent a tidal wave of death and destruction-stalking through North End Park and Commercial st shortly after noon yesterday. Casualty lists furnished by the various hospitals total 11 dead and 50 Injured. Six wooden buildings were demolished, one heavy steel support of the elevated structure was knocked down and others were so weakened that they will have to be replaced. A score of Public Works Department horses were either smothered In their stalls by the flood of molasses or so severely Injured as their stable collapsed that they were shot by policemen to end their suffering. The giant molasses tank, having a capacity of 2,360,000 gallons, was located at 529 Commercial st, west of North End Park. It was the property of the Purity Distilling Company, a subsidiary of United States Industrial Alcohol Company. The tank and contents were valued in round figures at $250,000. It Is estimated the total property loss will not exceed $500,000
The molasses was distilled into industrial alcohol used to produce military explosives and the anarchy movement. The tank owners stated that anarchists blew up the tank. Then there was the fact that molasses was used in booze and prohibition was knocking at the door. Most of the residents of the North End were Italian, they were immigrants, and they were not citizens, so they had very little to say.
So this monstrous 2.3 million-gallon tank placed 3 feet from Commercial Street was erected without a whimper of protest, and no city official complained even after it started to leak from day one. The molasses flood did for building standards what the Coconut Grove fire did for fire codes as there were no regulations at the time. The molasses tank, which was 50 feet tall and 90 feet in diameter, didn’t even require a permit. After the judge ruled in favour of the plaintiffs, construction standards began to get stringent, first in Boston, then in Massachusetts, and finally across the country.
Buildings swept away West of the tank, were buildings occupied by the Bay State Railway Company. Between the giant tank and the water front is the house of . Engine 31, a fireboat of the Boston Fire Department, and next beyond that, on North End Park, is a recreation, or headhouse, on a small pier. East of the tank, and adjoining North End park, near Commercial St, were the buildings of the North End Paving Division of the Public Works Department of the city of Boston. These included a small office building, a stable and some sheds. All these buildings,, as well as the frame dwelling of Mrs Bridget Clougherty at 6 Copps Hill terrace, which is across Commercial st, were quickly destroyed.
There was no escape from the wave. Caught, human being and animal alike could not flee. Running in it was impossible. Snared in its flood was to be stifled. Once it smeared a head–human or animal–there was no coughing off the sticky mass. To attempt to wipe it with hands was to make it worse. Most of those who died, died from suffocation. It plugged nostrils almost air-tight.
During the four years it was in operation, workers reported hearing groaning noises every time the tank was filled with syrup, and it was well known that the structure was leaky, particularly to neighbourhood kids. Kids would collect and eat the molasses that oozed out of the tanks. The tank leaked constantly, worrying employees and neighbours. But in their rush to keep up with demand, company officials just repainted the tank in the same colour as the leaking molasses.
They said when metre readers went into the basements of those buildings across the street from the molasses company years later they could still smell molasses. Which makes perfect sense to me, because those basements were filled up to the first floor with molasses.
“This week’s Zoomers writer’s challenge is to write about giving yourself an award for some accomplishment. Patting myself on the back is not something I do, and in fact I run 100 miles in another direction if anyone ever gives me a compliment.
Why have awards?
Some can have whatever award they win become their identity and then be ignored for any other achievement down the line. Instead of awards we should have accolades for words and yesterday when the Boston Marathon explosion happened there were lots of words being transported through airwaves that no one should have gotten an award for.”
“The blizzard they called Nemo in the United States is over, but the discussions are still endless south of the border. In Canada we received the same storm but our media headlines have already been changed to: “Will Jason Spezza return to play hockey for the Ottawa Senators this season?”